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Massim Spatula Terminal Papua New Guinea
#Papua New Guinea#papua new guinea art#tribal art#massim#massim art#lime spatula#lime stick#ebony#sculpture#art sculpture
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𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖
❤︎ alhaitham x gn!reader 1.1k words alhaitham cooks you a dish from his childhood.
in the apartment you shared with alhaitham, there was no explosive rage or hurtful yelling – there were no plates thrown or doors slammed or chairs hurled against walls that had seen more than they should have.
no, home was quiet and healing. it was ivy-crawled bricks, breezy curtains and ambient lighting that was a testimony to the soft-lipped love he spoke to you, words he learnt passed down from his gentle grandmother.
alhaitham would keep you safe; he promised himself the moment his eyes met yours.
love was gently knocking on the door to tell you that dinner's ready. love did not rage or come home angry – it did not yell at you over something trivial. love was patient and whole and kind. home was love, love forgave and repented and knelt to ask for forgiveness; love forgave, without a second thought, because love was home.
home was love, alhaitham was home, alhaitham was love.
between you and love, you usually cooked – it wasn’t that alhaitham didn’t want to cook, or that he couldn’t; well . . you were just better. better in the sense that dinner’s vegetables just seemed to slice and arrange themselves neatly in obedience to the ruler of the kitchen. somehow, you measuring seasoning with your tender heart always made it taste better despite his countless accurate measurements.
cooking in the kitchen was also where love was found.
it was in the sweet, soft light that entered through your kitchen window, perfect rays broken up through the trees outside – and of course, it was found in alhaitham; his built frame leaning against the kitchen countertop, admiring you and feeling a slight twinge of envy at your proficiency in the kitchen. dishes were cooked with ease and you just had so much fun, twirling around with your wooden spatula. you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek before turning back to stir your pot of stew.
“ah, it’s going to burn–”
“don’t be silly, it’ll be fine!” the only thing he felt in the kitchen, with you at its helm, was happiness.
perhaps he could try once again? perhaps he could– no, he would. he would make some of that happiness with his own hands, laden into porcelain bowls to share with you.
the next time alhaitham walked into the kitchen, it was with aching arms heavy with brown bags chockfull of dinner ingredients. vibrant padisarah petals, marbled chunks of beef, plastic bags filled to the brim with rice grains and aromatic spices that left its mark on your kitchen. he knew exactly what he wanted to share with you tonight.
“you’re cooking?” he hears your footsteps as you bound into the kitchen, pattering against the cool marble excitedly.
“yes, i am. dinner should be ready in a few hours.” alhaitham lets a faint smile grace his features. you wrap your arms tenderly around his waist, burying your face into his back. he couldn’t see your sweet grin this way, but that was alright. your joy practically radiated off your warm frame.
“thanks for cooking tonight.”
he lets his hands work their magic – some sort of magic he still faintly believed in. it had been some time since he cooked something like this, after all; and much less a dish he last tasted in his last remnants of childhood.
in went the beautiful cuts of meat, sizzling over hot oil, browned then mixed with all the nostalgic spices his tastebuds yearned to remember. fresh limes, red tomatoes, sweet onions, everything tasty and good were then added to the mix. white pearly grains of rice were cooked and added to the pot.
almost done, now.
all that was left was to wait for everything to meld in perfect harmony. alhaitham found himself staring at his work. the rice was a blank canvas for the myriad of spices, with familiar love and nostalgia that this dish brought together in a pot. empty dishes and cutting boards stained with effort littered the kitchen counter, and he sighed in fervent exhaustion just at the thought of cleaning up.
“oh! don’t worry about the dishes tonight, i’ve got them~” you chirped eagerly, tiptoeing to catch a glimpse of whatever was making your kitchen smell absolutely heavenly.
“you’re sure?” alhaitham raises an eyebrow. “i can do it, it’s not a problem.”
“no, i’m sure – you put in so much work for tonight! think of it as a thank you!”
always so sweet, offering to lend a hand no matter how tiresome or bothersome it was. did you know how much of an angel you were? alhaitham lets another smile slip past his weary face. thank you.
he hears the timer ding! and immediately turns to the stove, his masterful work steaming and ready – it looked incredible. warm gravy coated every grain, beef chunks tender and pulling apart at the force of a dinner fork. it smelt incredible. it was warm, spicy, fragrant with every hint of nostalgia he added.
it smelt like home.
kind, inviting, warm, hopeful, home.
“it’s done!” alhaitham lets out a quiet laugh as you wrap your hands around his waist again, peeking at the food hungrily.
“it smells so good.”
“this one’s for you.” he nods, setting down your bowl after ladling steaming hot biryani into it. he finishes it off with a few padisarah petals, turning the bowl towards you.
“alright, chef. you wanna introduce your dish?” you tease, giggling softly and pushing some rice aside to reveal the chunks of spiced beef. you spoon a portion of the biryani into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully and savouring every bit of effort he put into tonight’s dinner.
“well, i wanted you to try something i grew up eating. my grandmother made this for me in my childhood years.”
you hear your spoon clink against your bowl as you set it down to rest, staring at him.
“you made me something your grandmother used to make for you?” there is a slight quiver in your voice as you comprehend his sweet words.
this wasn’t just any dinner, then. it was a part of himself that he wished to share with you. it was young alhaitham seated at the dinner table, waiting for the food every night made by his loving grandmother. it was when three wooden chairs were swapped for two new ones, when only a good plate of homemade food could make him push aside any grief. it was his grandmother’s love in a dish –constant, reliable, and never failing to bring a hint of a wistful smile to his face.
“i did. i thought you would enjoy it.” alhaitham smiles, looking up from his bowl to see you wear a sombre, yet grateful expression; but there was no denying that you were enjoying it.
you were loving every bite, immensely – it tasted just a touch heavier on your tongue after he shared – and it was beautiful. nostalgia was the most powerful ingredient one could add, and time only told the truth – everything tasted better, when made with all the love and care and conscience in the world.
“thank you, alhaitham.”
#.☘︎ ݁˖ jasmine blooms#nereids' realm#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x gn reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x gn reader#divider from plutism
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THE BOYS + THEIR GUILTY PLEASURES
( dethklok x reader - their favorite food(s) and how they share them with you )
NATHAN EXPLOSION
He loves cool ranch doritos, obviously
any other type of salty chip too
used to mix his fruit snacks with his fritos as a kid- didn't care if the other kids called him weird for it
would hand u a chip with crusty ass dorito fingers as an act of love
"I saved you a good one. Look." Nathan shows you a dorito shaped like a guitar pick. "Do you think they do this shit on purpose?" He asks with a gruff laugh, using his free hand to turn up the volume on the flatscreen.
Would let u put the food u don't like onto his plate he isn't picky
Nathan would probably consider eating ribs together as a proper date
goes absolutely wild when it comes to seasoning his ribs and goes all in when eating them
PICKLES THE DRUMMER
anything wrapped in cotton candy
and also bowls of mayo (his mom used to make them for dinner as shown in that one metalocalypse bts interview)
probably has the weirdest, most concerning food combos ever
he's also really good at making ramen chips
would probably try to impress you with how easily he can break a square of ramen noodles in half
Pickles looks at you crooked smile on his face. "Babe, watch this." He says confidently, pulling out a bag of ramen from his pocket. God knows how long that's been in there.
You watch with caution as the drummer fumbles with the packaging. His thumb runs up the seam that separates the ramen down the middle. With a snap, the ramen breaks perfectly in half. Not only were you impressed that he didn't get ramen crumbs all over the bed, but you were even more impressed seeing him open the flavor packet with his teeth
whenever he craves something he usually asks Jean-Pierre to make it
he doesn't mind shoving things into the microwave to heat them up either
would probably put an egg and some chili powder w/lime in his ramen and call it gourmet
SKWISGAAR SKWIGELF
He is a sweets FIEND
he always has at least some sweet thing on his plate during dinners at mordhaus
needs at least one piece of sugar-filled something to keep himself in check (either that or something with coffee)
speaking of coffee, his pockets usually have some sort of coffee candy wrapper in them
he thinks it's more convinent to eat coffee candy sometimes
he worries about getting it stuck in his teeth, though
You in the corner of your eye see something clink onto your plate.
Skwisgaar was trying his best to be discreet. The man tears a piece big enough for you to share onto the side of your plate, his hands underneath the table to keep his bandmates from noticing. All this work for a piece of frosted cinnamon bun.
"Thanks, babe." You say quietly enough for him to hear, for a moment he smiles at you. His smile quickly drops when one of his bandmates calls for his attention.
TOKI WARTOOTH
pancakes
specifically diner pancakes
they remind him of when he first came to America
back then, all he could afford was the breakfast meal at some diner
he doesn't even remember the name of it anymore, but he remembers how the pancakes tasted
and they tasted heavenly Toki has been trying to find out the recipe himself ever since
due to his limited knowledge in cooking, he often asks you to try the things he makes
Toki watches with a slight grimace on his face, an apron tied around his waist and his hair put up behind his ears in a low ponytail, spatula in hand. "Hows is it?" He asks, waiting for your reaction as you take a bite.
Seeing you go quiet makes Toki prepare for the worst. He holds onto the spatula in his hand tightly. "Yous enjoys it or..." Toki's too afraid of disappointing you to move. He waits for you to say something, anything about his cooking.
He quickly calms down as you eagerly pick at your plate for more, hearing you ask for more syrup makes him smile as he looks in the kitchen pantry.
you showing him the wonders of instant pancakes expanded his world, by the way
now he can share and eat pancakes wherever he wants ♡
WILLIAM MURDERFACE
deep fried oreos
William grew up surrounded by county fairs, he always looked forward to them because that meant he wouldn't be around his grandma (who was usually watching the racing pigs)
deep fried oreos are a comfort food for William
even though he doesn't like being reminded of his childhood in the slightest, he still remembers the fair food he ate fondly
"You uh, got somethin' on your face." He points out, even though you weren't exactly paying attention to him. Because Skwisgaar was busy practicing for a re-re-recording of his part of Dethklok's new album you offered to substitute for him.
That meant eating junk food and putting on the scariest, most gore-filled movie William could find. Says he's going "easy" on you by putting on a classic of the slasher genre. Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The original, of course. Not the 2000s one.
He stiffens in place at the thought of him wiping away at that chocolate stain on the corner of your lips. Not because he didn't love you, no. But because he was scared he'd somehow ruin your time together. Maybe if he stuffs his face with more whip cream, he'd feel more confident just being in the room with you. Maybe.
William already assumes the worst when his thumb leaves the side of your cheek. He hears you laugh, he sees you smile. The corners of your lips turn up.
"Is that your bass playing hand?" You ask, turning away from the screen to look at him. The way you just...did that made him almost choke on his food. William clears his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." He replies, as smooth as possible. He stiffens again when you shuffel closer to lay your head on his shoulder.
🤘 : LIKE THE FIC? VISIT DETHKLOK DOT SHOP FOR MORE !!!
#♡ ⊹ ۫ ۪ ꒰͡₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ reblogs n' feedback r greatly appreciated !! support ur local fanfic writers !! ♡ ͡꒱#♡ : characters included - nathan explosion + pickles the drummer + skwisgaar skwigelf + toki wartooth + william murderface !!#︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿#nathan explosion x reader#pickles the drummer x reader#skwisgaar skwigelf x reader#toki wartooth x reader#william murderface x reader#metalocalypse x reader#dethklok x reader#metalocalypse headcanons#metalocalypse fluff#metalocalypse fanfic
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I somehow missed the memo that yesterday was #WorldWaterfowlDay, so in belated celebration I present Warrior Duck:
Vessel in the Form of a Warrior Duck (Pato Guerrero)
Moche, made in Huacas de Moche, Peru, 500-650 CE
Terracotta w/ mother of pearl, shell, and stone inlays
Museo Arqueológico "Santiago Uceda Castillo." Ministry of Culture of Peru VEX.2024.3.15
🆔 That distinctive beak shape suggests that Warrior Duck is one of the Spatula genus gang (aka shovelers & teals) 😎
Additional info via the Getty Museum:
“Here's what we know about it:
🔘 The bird holds a mace in one hand and a square shield in the other-typical arms and armor for Moche warriors.
🔘 Warrior ducks are among the many hybrid beings that can be seen in Moche art, but this creature is special.
🔘 The duck’s eyes are made of white shell and black stone, and mother-of-pearl inlays are on the wings, face, and shield—this is not your average pottery vessel.
🔘 Other finds in the burial, such as a gilded-copper lime container and copper adornments for clothing, suggest the deceased male was a significant figure, perhaps a priest.
🔘 The warrior duck vessel was found in fragments. We don’t know whether it contained anything. It may have been made for the burial, a prestigious offering that conveyed the dead man’s power and status.”
#animals in art#birds in art#bird#duck#Warrior Duck#Pato Guerrero#Moche art#Peruvian art#Andean art#South American art#Indigenous art#funerary art#ceramics#pottery#animal effigy#anthropomorphic#effigy vessel#waterfowl#water birds#World Waterfowl Day#ancient art
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After 10 years of craving it, I now present to you... the triple pickle cream pie!
I haven't thought about it for a long time, but then I learned recently that a (terrible) recipe for a pickle cheesecake exists, and I was reminded of the pie in WOY that looked impossibly good to me, and thought if I could make an actually good pickle pie. Two weeks ago I finally got started, and now here we are.
I found a recipe for cucumber-lime pie and mixed it with cream pie instructions.
I made it "triple" by putting pickle in the filling (plain cucumber), pickle in the cream (sour-- not salty-- pickle juice and a TON more sugar mixed in), and pickles on the side (Japanese sour ones just as removable garnish).
Then I used a graham-cracker pie crust because looking at the pies in the show for some reason always made me nostalgic for those Hershey's sundae pies you could get in slices at certain restaurants-- and they both work better once frozen.
I also made the wave pattern with a rubber spatula.
I had two different people try it and they said it was honestly not bad! (I thought it tasted pretty alright.)
Anyway, it's not perfect, but I'm sure you can all try and experiment with it yourself if you're ambitious and hungry for it enough, haha.
Sorry for the varying lighting on the pictures, the kitchen lights bleached the irl colors on-camera and I had to retouch most of them, hence the mild saturation.
#wander over yonder#woy#the helper#triple pickle pie#woy season 1#food from stuff#craig mccracken was the first to like this on twitter whaaaaat#if you wanna make this yourself then full disclosure: the filling and cream needs a bunch of food coloring to get it show-accurate#and to be set in the freezer
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on one condition.
harry styles x original character
part seven.
word count: 13.3K
warnings: none!
26 AUGUST 2018
lynn sits at the breakfast bar while kathleen hovers over the stove, a cup of coffee set next to each of them. it’s quiet between the two, and the only thing that can be heard is the occasional faint scraping of the spatula against the metal pan every time her mother reaches over to flip a pancake.
it’s a rare sight to see the woman cooking breakfast instead of having her nose buried deep in her macbook screen, but according to her sisters, there hasn’t been a morning since they returned from the beach that kathleen hasn’t woken them up with breakfast on the table. she was trying to be a better mother. lynn could see it in the way she randomly called to check in and the way she rarely asked for favors anymore.
lynn would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little sad that she never got this version of her mother, but as long as her sisters did, she could never complain. plus, all of her meetings with dr. agard made lynn come to the realization that their relationship is a two way street. if she ever wanted it to get better, she’d have to put in an effort, too.
however, her effort isn’t the same. of course lynn answers the quick phone calls and attends the new family dinners, but what she really needs to work on is forgiving peter and getting rid of the resentment she holds for her mother that came when the woman took him back. she always thought her father’s absence never bothered her, but it did and she hated the fact that he was able to waltz into her life like it was just another tuesday. like the decade he spent pretending she didn’t exist meant absolutely nothing at all.
after this week’s wednesday family dinner, the two women sat on the back porch until the early hours of morning, each consuming enough red wine to probably fill a kiddie pool. lynn didn’t really mean to stay up that late nor did she mean to drink that much, but once her mother started to cry into her glass with long apologies about how she’s treated her, she decided that a few extra glasses wouldn’t hurt.
the dinner took place after a three hour long impromptu session with dr. agard. harry had made a comment about her crows feet and smile lines earlier in the week, and it kind of sent her whole world tumbling.
really, lynn had mentioned them first. she caught her reflection in the door of harry’s freshly scrubbed microwave (courtesy of her), and thumbed at the obvious indentations permanently etched into her skin before mumbling something under her breath about needing to invest in botox.
“don’t,” harry had replied with his face buried deep in his refrigerator, a soapy rag in hand. “means you’ve been happy.”
and then he turned around and started talking about finally finding that lime he had been missing all week. lynn wasn’t really paying attention after he had her facing a gut-wrenching reality literally seconds prior, but apparently the finding called for tequila shots, and she wasn’t going to be one to disagree.
lynn spent so much time being miserable and hating her family life, but she never really stopped to think about the good parts of it. sure, she hated the fact that her dad came back, but without him, she wouldn’t have her little sisters that she loves so so so much.
the chocolate bars she buys for jane after every recital were the exact same ones that kathleen used to leave out on the counter for her when she had a chorus concert, and sometimes when she wakes up in her bed surrounded by jane and amelia, a piece of her is transported back to being four years old, tucked under kathleen’s arm with a vcr tape of casper playing on the television.
her mom would take her out at least once a month and buy her whatever she needed. whatever she wanted, really. they’d go on expensive vacations every year, and when younger lynn came home crying because she loved the beach so much, kathleen bought the condo they stayed in. it wasn’t even for sale.
so after talking with dr. agard until her throat felt raw, lynn realized that her mom spent her entire life trying to give her the financial security that she didn’t have when she was growing up. her parents didn’t come into money until later in life (after all of their kids were grown), and lynn was left with every cent of it anyways.
so, after a few glasses of wine, lynn told her mother that all she wanted growing up was for her to just be present, and kathleen has been trying to fix that ever since.
she hosts weekly family dinners and invites lynn to morning coffee. she drops jane off at school instead of making her take the bus and spends hours after work in an abandoned shopping mall’s parking lot teaching amelia how to drive. she helps the girls get ready in the mornings and she’s there tucking them into bed every night, and even if it’s too late for lynn and maybe amelia, at least jane gets all of her.
it was such an odd situation to be in. she sometimes finds herself feeling jealous of jane as she’s getting a children’s book read to her at bedtime. lynn wishes that she could remember those kinds of parts of her childhood. the soft moments with kathleen were rare growing up, but they existed in faint memories and nostalgic feelings and… well, that would just have to be enough.
she felt so many different things every time she dissected her childhood with her therapist. there used to be so much grief and disappointment and anger, but now, she found herself looking back on it in a positive light. little lynn didn’t get all of kathleen, but she did get all of elena and that was something she’ll be eternally grateful for.
her family life wasn’t the only topic of discussion when she met with dr. agard. recently, lynn’s found that she was bringing up harry more and more, especially now that he was seeing oliver.
she thought their night together would be awkward, but harry simply changed into a pair of her shorts and got under the covers. his eyes were closed, and lynn could tell he was sleeping again by his long, deep breaths. she had never seen him so tired.
once lynn climbed into her side, harry rolled over and pulled her into his chest like it was a reflex. his lips pressed against her shoulders a few times, and then she felt his hand sink under the fabric of her old tshirt, his fingers roaming over the bare skin of her stomach. for a split second, part of her wished they would dip down under the waistband of her underwear just like they had a month ago. a bigger, more sane part of her told her to close her eyes, so she did, falling asleep in what felt like seconds.
the next morning, she woke up to his fingers sliding down her arm until they reached the inside of her wrist, thumb gently pressing into her pulse point. it’s something she’s only caught him doing once before, but lynn suspects it’s something he does every time they wake up next to one another. a content sigh fell from his lips after a few moments, and then he tried to wake her up with soft shoulder kisses and promises of fruity pancakes covered in sugary, sweet syrup.
remembering that time had her stupidly standing outside of his apartment with their usual chinese orders a few days later, but just as she turned back to get the forgotten wine bottle in her car, the elevator arrived with a very pretty boy inside. he was smothering his lips in some kind of menthol chapstick that lynn could smell as soon as the doors had opened.
the boy offered her a smile before stepping out, and lynn watched with a heavy chest as he made his way to harry’s front door. he didn't even knock. instead, he used the key on his keyring, and lynn’s stomach twisted at the sight.
oliver.
“honey, i’m home,” he sung into the apartment with a laugh.
honey. home. oh, she was going to be sick.
and she was, not even five minutes later. lynn lost whatever was left of her lunch in the communal trashcan right in front of the complex. the guilt scorching her skin like a bad sunburn.
the suffocating feeling found her again a few days later when harry stood in front of the glass door of the bakery. when lynn saw him, he was beaming. the grin on his lips looked like it was making his cheeks ache. he had two to-go cups from the café in one hand, and when lynn unlocked the door for him, his free hand was thrown around her neck to pull her into him.
“evy,” he sighs into her hair. “i’m so, so happy to see you.”
“hmm, and why’s that?” she pulls away to look at him, and harry offers her a cup with a messy e.a. written on the lid. the handwriting matches the one she often found on post it notes and grocery lists stuck to harry’s refrigerator, and when she looks down at his, she can’t help but notice the way the ‘h.s.’ is written in nora’s neat handwriting. “wait, let me guess. you want another chocolate cupcake.”
“ha ha,” he deadpans. “no, that’s not—actually, if you’re offering i wouldn’t say no.”
“depends. what’s the occasion?”
“my paintings sold,” his cheek caves in like he was biting it to stop his growing smile and something inside of lynn makes her itch to press her lips into the indentation. “someone in raleigh bought them for like… an insane amount.”
“harry,” a matching small smile’s fighting to make its way on her face. “that’s so exciting.”
“i know,” his fingers are holding her elbow, and he takes a step back, eyes raking over her frame like he’s taking her in. she’s only wearing her lousy baking clothes and an apron, but his face becomes unreadable for a moment and she feels incredibly self conscious. “shit. i’m sorry. you’re busy. i shouldn’t have come.”
“why did you?” it’s only meant to be a thought, but it slips out of her mouth, and lynn shamefully watches as he pulls himself away from her.
“i don’t know. i got the email this morning, and i felt so relieved. it’s going to help so much, and i just… i wanted to share it with you.”
the two of them stand in front of each other so closely. the toes of their shoes are bumping into one another’s. his eyes are a shining green that reminds her of the fresh, spring time grass she and elena used to spend long afternoons sitting on. the woman would hold a notebook on her lap, writing down lynn’s critiques in glitter pen as they ate the cakes and pastries they spent all morning making.
there’s no reason for her brain to be comparing the feeling of being this close to harry to her happiest childhood memories.
but it does.
“well, why don’t we get you that cupcake, sunshine?” her palms press against this chest. “i’d say you deserve one. maybe even two.”
the two of them spent the rest of the morning locked away in the bakery, before moving over to the cafe for another coffee (or two) which only made one thing incredibly clear to her. this needed to end, just like dr. agard suggested the last several times lynn has been sat on her couch.
it was easy to let herself indulge in harry and whatever he gave her when oliver only existed in her mind, but now he had a face with a sweet smile and kind eyes. everytime lynn thinks about having harry in her bed that night or letting him feed her his unwanted strawberries from his fork at breakfast the next morning, she sees him, too. what they were doing was far more than just friendly, and it was so incredibly wrong.
so, she invited harry and oliver to her family’s cookout, and to create as much space as possible, she told him to invite his new art school friends, too. lynn also invited silas (and an additional text was sent to ren when the boy casually mentioned that they were seeing one another again), all of which accepted her text message invitation. that meant there was absolutely no reason for the two of them to be alone at all today, and lynn planned on keeping it that way.
lynn leaves her head at the sound of amelia and jane arguing their way down the stairs. there’s a stack of chocolate chip pancakes on both sides of her, and when lynn looks up, kathleen is sliding a plate of blueberry ones in front of her.
it’s simple, but her heart still swells at the gesture as she thanks her mom. blueberry pancakes were her favorite when she was a child (only they were usually made by elena), and lynn can’t help but wonder how her mother even knew that about her. the woman gives her a smile, and lynn thinks that the tiniest (really, the absolute tiniest) piece of her inner child heals with it.
“don’t thank me,” kathleen’s moving the dirty dishes to the sink. “it’s something i should have been doing from the very start.”
✮✮✮
harry shows up a little earlier than everyone else with the catering peter had asked him to pick up while lynn and kathleen are back in the kitchen. the older woman has been chopping up vegetables for the last hour while lynn arranges them neatly on a tray.
“hi, honey,” harry presses his lips against hers, and she tries not to let the way her stomach churns reflect on her face. she watches as he carefully opens the oven door and slides in the trays he’s carrying to keep them warm, desperately wanting to get her mind off of the fact that harry lips tasted faintly of menthol chapstick.
“thank you for doing that, harry,” her mother says. “i really appreciate it.”
harry waves her off, a boyish grin taking over his face. “it was nothing, really.”
“harry!!!” jane’s shriek cuts through the quietness of the room. the little girl runs up to him, arms stretched out wide for a hug. harry crouches down to pick her up, and she sits on his hip with her arms tightly wrapped around his neck.
“sunflower,” harry coos. “‘ve missed you so much.”
“duh,” jane says with a frown on her lips. “i haven’t seen you since my birthday. you must hate me.”
“hey, don’t say that,” harry’s fingers pinch at her sides causing her to erupt in little giggles as she pushes his hand away. “i’ve been busy with school, just like you.”
“you’re too old for school,” a skeptical pout takes over her sister’s face, and it’s harry’s turn to laugh. he does so with shiny eyes and big dimples, and the sight of the two of them makes lynn swoon.
“i’ve got a few more things to get from my car,” harry says. “do you want to come, janey? i have a friend you can meet.”
“i didn’t know you had friends,” the way she says it so seriously makes lynn muffle a laugh with the palm of her hand, and when she looks over, even kathleen has an amused look growing on her face as she watches the pair, too.
“oh whatever,” harry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he walks with her to the front door. “you’re carrying the biggest box all by yourself for saying that.”
“oh man,” she catches jane’s sad sigh, and then they’re gone.
lynn watches through the window as harry and jane walk up to the same boy from the elevator. he’s trying to balance the remaining trays on top of each other, and by the way harry’s head is tilted back with laughter, she can tell that he’s failing miserably.
oliver crouches down to jane’s level when harry sets her down to help and holds out his hand for a high five. her sister shyly moves away, hiding behind harry’s legs. she’d never tell dr. agard, but sometimes, when she’s lying in bed waiting for her sleeping meds to kick in, her tired brain likes to imagine what her life would be like with harry. for some reason, every made-up scenario always leads back to white picket fences and sticky handprints on glass doors. saturdays spent at the playground and princess themed birthday parties. puppy kisses and—
“he’s good with her,” kathleen says from behind her. “with amelia, too.”
lynn only hums at her mother’s words. she knows he’s good with them, and every time she thinks about what’s going to happen when everything’s over, a lump starts to form in her throat.
“i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been, lynn,” she turns around to find kathleen with weepy eyes. “i hate that you were hurting for so long and i had no idea.”
the girl offers her a smile, “no one did, mom. at least not until after. i shouldn’t have kept it from you anyway. i’m sorry, too.”
“you did what you felt was right. don’t ever apologize for that,” the older woman wipes under her eyes with one of the dish rags on the counter. “i just… i want to make sure he’s good to you.”
“he’s the best,” lynn can’t hide the grin on her lips as she says it because it’s true, he is. she can only hope to find someone who’s a fraction of him to love her for real.
her mother nods, and it falls quiet between the two again. when lynn looks back out the window, silas, ren, harry, and oliver are all following jane in a line with trays in their hands. the two couples nearly mirror each other, oliver and harry looking like a younger version of the other two. the sight is so cute, lynn can’t resist the urge to snap a photo.
kathleen takes the cold food (along with jane) out to the garage refrigerator, and harry takes the time to properly introduce oliver and lynn. the boy was just as sweet as his smile, apologizing profusely for not recognizing her in the hallway the other night (apparently harry talks about her. a lot. sometimes he even brings out pictures). harry’s brows furrow at his words, and before lynn can even make up some lie, ren is wrapping her in their arms, going on about how much they missed her.
✮✮✮
“that doesn’t bother you?”
“not anymore,” ren shakes their head. “why? does it bother you?”
“no,” harry feels his face warm at the other’s accusation. “why would it?”
the two are sitting on the back porch, each nursing a cherry cider that silas had graciously supplied while they watch their friends act like complete idiots in the yard. after jane complained about abigail thompson making fun of her lack of jump rope skills in her kindergarten gym class, harry asked tommy and niall to buy a jump rope on their way over. the old, ratty one lynn dug up in the garage definitely wasn’t going to cut it.
it started out as nothing more than a little lesson. oliver and niall swung the rope around while harry and lynn took turns teaching the little girl. honestly, there wasn’t really much to teach. lynn sat on the ground, urging her sister to jump when it was time, and harry only stepped in when he heard frustrated huffs fall past lynn’s lips. after successfully getting two hops in a row with harry’s more gentle coaching approach, jane lost interest and wandered away to her group of school friends that just arrived. the plot was lost not long after.
as soon as silas and ren joined, harry watched as something inside of lynn sparked. she challenged her friends to the old game they used to play on the playground, and then she invited in harry’s friends, too, claiming she needed some younger competition. he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a group of adults become so competitive over a simple game of jump rope.
ren left the group just as things started getting a little too crazy. they muttered something about having bad knees, and harry slid away with them when no one else offered to.
ren shrugs, a smirk already sitting on their lips when he looks over. “dunno. seems like it does though.”
harry rolls his eyes, attention turning back to the more pressing matter. silas and lynn slow dancing in the backyard between their turns. the man twirls her around, warm, bubbly laughter spilling from her mouth. her hands are around his neck and his sit on her waist. he can’t help but wonder how it wasn’t bothering ren, because despite what harry just said, it was certainly bothering him.
“hello?” niall calls. “it’s your turn, lynn. i just got forty six.”
harry doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful for niall in his entire life. if they weren’t in front of lynn’s entire family, he could’ve kissed him right on the mouth.
the two had met during their freshman year of college, both ending up in the same fraternity. they were acquaintances at most, often showing up to the same events and parties. they chatted here and there, but harry always got the vibe that niall couldn’t stand him. looking back, the distaste was completely warranted. even now harry would’ve found the teenage version of himself to be completely obnoxious.
niall dropped out after their second year, and harry didn’t see him again until he was sitting in front of him during an entry level photography class that he had signed up for. niall recognized him as soon as they all stood up to leave. he was a bit nervous when he gained the other’s attention, but niall simply smiled, introduced him to his friend tommy, and they’ve been hanging out ever since.
“thirty five,” tommy corrects with a sigh. “no one likes a liar, niall.”
he watches as lynn practically tears herself away from silas, blowing him a kiss as she saunters back over to the group. the whole thing has harry realizing that maybe the burn on his skin was from something more than the sun outside.
“their relationship is the reason we broke up the night silas asked me to marry him,” ren randomly admits. their voice is quieter than before, but it has a new serious edge to it. “it’s strictly platonic between them, but he’s protective of her, just like she is of him, and if you want to be with her, it’s something you just have to learn to live with.”
“oh, we’re not—“
“i know,” ren says. “but i can see how you look at them. from the outside, they’re concerningly close to one another. it’s why i asked silas to move to north carolina. i thought it would keep him out of her bed when she called in the middle of the night or stop him from spending hours in that bakery every sunday, but it only had him spending hundreds on plane tickets every month.”
“so, what made you suddenly be okay with it?”
“i met someone who i thought would love me in all the ways silas didn’t, and then i realized that a few nights away and a couple hours on sundays were a fair trade for the way he did love me,” ren takes a sip from their can before clearing their throat. “they both went through some things where they only had each other to get through it. they’re not my stories to share, but once you know, the way they are with each other makes perfect sense.”
before harry can reply, ren’s eyes flick up to silas who’s dragging his feet up the steps with heavy stomps and then dropping himself right on the other’s lap. “tired of jump roping already? you’re such an old man.”
“these knees are not what they used to be.”
“you’re telling me,” ren reaches down to rub their palm over their knee, a small hum of discomfort falling past their lips. “twenty years of soccer and they’ve given up on me.”
“you should talk to oliver,” harry says. “the same thing happened to him. lost his scholarship and everything. i think it’s something that still really bothers him.”
ren nods. “yeah, i will. i haven’t been around in a while. he’s your friend or lynn’s?”
“harry’s boyfriend,” silas teases harry, fingers pinching his reddening cheeks before pointing the boy out. “isn’t he pretty? reminds me of you.”
“oh? boyfriend?” ren replies, eyebrows raised. “i wouldn’t have guessed.”
“yeah, yeah,” harry waves the two off. “whatever.”
silas laughs, falling back against his partner. or ex-turned-friend. harry wasn’t really sure what they were, but when silas peppers kisses to ren’s face, he guesses they’re maybe a little more.
“harry,” lynn grabs his attention, waving him over to where she was sitting alone on the grass. he’s a little embarrassed by how fast he gets up and moves her way and it only worsens when he hears what silas mutters under his breath.
like a moth to a flame.
“sit with me,” she pulls on his hand when he’s closer, and when he does finally sit on the grass next to lynn, she leans so her head rests on his shoulder. “i love your friends.”
“me too,” he hums. “they’re nice, aren’t they?”
“obviously. i mean, they’re your friends,” her fingers pinch at his elbow. “oliver’s cute, too.”
“yeah?” harry laughs, jerking his arm from underneath her. “you guys and all your pinching. i’m an easy bruiser.”
“sure you are,” lynn leans back into the grass. her hair’s fanned around her, and she’s giving him one of her bright, white smiles. it reminds him of when they first met nearly three months ago. she’d look across the table at him with a huge smile on her face. it never really reached her eyes though. at least not the way it does now. she looks happy, and harry thinks he’d do pretty much anything to keep it that way. “are you having fun?”
“so much fun,” harry murmurs. he lets his hand reach out to smooth her hair away from her face. she’s practically beaming, and the sight of her makes his insides feel all gooey. there’s so many words he could use to describe how she looks in this exact moment, but he thinks radiant fits best. he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from her. “what about you, honey? are you having fun?”
harry expects her to nod with soft pink cheeks and a shy smile on her lips, like admitting she was enjoying herself is the most humiliating thing she could possibly do. she’d probably bury her face in the crook of her arm if he teased her about her growing blush, telling him to knock it off. the more time they spent together, the better harry got at reading her and predicting how she was feeling, so he doesn’t understand how he got this situation entirely wrong.
lynn’s expression steels for a second when the question leaves his mouth. her eyebrows gently draw together as she sits up, and when she looks over at him, harry can see her usual shiny, blue eyes soaked with worry. they look glazed over and a little red like she had been rubbing at them.
“i could taste oliver’s minty chapstick when you kissed me,” the softness of her voice makes harry’s stomach twist. she leans her head on her knees, but she keeps her focus on a patch of flowers growing near their feet. “forgot he was here for a minute if i’m being honest. i’m sorry.”
“ev–”
before he can even get the words out, lynn is pressing her fingertips against his lips, shaking her head like she couldn’t possibly bear hearing him finish. “i feel so guilty, harry. every time we’re together, i can’t stop thinking about what it’s doing to him. he doesn’t deserve this.”
“we’re just friends, evy. there’s nothing–”
“i know we are,” she says, eyes boring into his. “i mean, obviously. as if we’d ever be something real.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” his head tilts to the side, and he was sure that lynn could see the confusion written all over his face. maybe he lets himself think about it too often, but that night at the beach felt incredibly real. at least, it did to him, and a large part of him hoped that it did to her, too.
“i think it’s crazy that anyone even believes we’re together in the first place,” she says. her hand moves to the side, palm motioning to their group of friends that were scattered around them. “i mean, i bet half of the people in this yard have seen all those girls you go home with.”
out of everything he expected lynn to say, he never thought something like that would come from her mouth. the words ring through his mind like a bell, bouncing against his skull with a deafening echo. and really, he knows that he should be offended or hurt, but the only thing flowing through his mind right now is the idea that she thinks he’s dirty, and every moment they spent close to one another made her feel dirty, too.
her admission wraps around them like a weighted blanket. her big, round eyes are peering over at him expectantly, like she’s waiting for him to say something, but the heaviness of it all is suffocating, trapping anything he wants to say in his throat.
“you shouldn’t be over here,” lynn finally breaks the silence. she gives him that sad smile that usually finds its way onto her face right before she lets herself fall apart, and part of him wants to pull her into him and press his lips against her skin.
“this isn’t something you should be letting eat at you like this,” harry breathes. “oliver does-”
“harry, please,” and the way she sounds so broken when she says it makes harry want to cry which is so unfair because if anyone should be upset right now, it should be him. why is he feeling bad for simply existing around her?
“okay,” it’s quiet, and it’s all he trusts himself to say before getting up and brushing the stuck blades of grass off of his jeans and wandering over to his friends.
harry decides on spending the rest of the night away from lynn which doesn’t end up being too hard because she disappears inside soon after and never returns. if anyone notices her absence, they don’t mention it. instead, both of their friend groups join together to drink and swap stories. it’s nice, harry thinks, to be surrounded by a group of so many different people and feel accepted by every single one of them.
when the sun sets, the group moves to sit around a fire built by peter, and only a few minutes pass when jane suddenly appears at harry’s side with a bag of marshmallows and big puppy dog eyes staring back at him. he reveals that her own friends had just left, and niall and tommy decide they were going to follow behind.
so, he sits at the fire with jane on his knees, in between oliver and silas with ren across from him. it’s so easy being around them, and for a while, harry lets himself forget that it’s all pretend. that once he sees lynn again, they’ll probably decide to end things and he’ll keep pretending that the burning in his chest that coincidentally appears every time he’s around her is nothing more than a little acid reflux. it makes him kind of sad to know that this will probably be the last time he’s sitting in the adams’ backyard with tiny marshmallow fingerprints stuck to the knees of his jeans and aching cheeks from smiling so hard.
it’s something he won’t have to face until later though, because when the night ends and oliver’s ready to go, he goes inside to see if kathleen needs help with anything before they do. he expects to find her in the kitchen, but he’s surprised to find her in the living room, watching a movie on the tv. he’s even more surprised when he gets closer, and realizes that she’s sitting with lynn’s head in her lap, fingers running through her hair.
the older woman jumps a little when harry makes his presence known, laughing lightly when she realizes it’s just him.
“sorry ms. kathy,” harry whispers. “i just wanted to make sure that you didn’t need help with anything before oliver and i head out.”
she waves him off, “don’t worry about it. it was just a small back to school thing for the girls and their friends. nothing i can’t handle cleaning up myself.”
“are you sure? i really don’t mind.”
“i’m positive,” her voice is firm, but not in the offputting way it used to be. harry thinks she just doesn’t want him to worry about helping. “you already ran some errands for us earlier. thank you for the offer though.”
harry nods and is about to leave when a white light flashes across the tv. the room becomes just bright enough for him to see the tear tracks dried on lynn’s face, and the sight makes his feet freeze in place. how could he have possibly upset lynn enough to feel the need to crawl into kathleen’s lap?
“don’t worry about her,” her mom offers him a warm smile when she sees the worried look that’s probably etched into his face. “just had a bad reaction to something and said she didn’t want to ruin your night. i’m sure she’ll call tomorrow.”
he wonders if kathleen would be just as nice to him if she were to find out that her bad reaction was being near him?
3 SEPTEMBER 2018
“fuck,” lynn slams her hands against the steering wheel, lips curling inwards at the sight of the long line of traffic that didn’t even seem to be budging. she’s exhausted, both physically and mentally, after spending two long hours sitting in dr. agard’s office. there was nothing she wanted more than to be curled up underneath the weight of all of her covers with her curtains drawn, and instead, she was on her way to meet jackie for dinner, the traffic making her forfeit her usual post therapy shower.
today was her scheduled biweekly appointment at the woman’s lower manhattan office (thank god her office still opened on labor day), and yet she still managed to wake up late. the bright light of the fully risen sun poured through her windows, making her head throb with an excruciating headache as she ran to get ready. lynn wasn’t sure how, but she made it to the parking garage with five minutes to spare. she was running on four extra strength ibuprofen tablets, a pair of sunglasses she stole from amelia, and a dream.
the pair had quite a lot to go over during their short one hundred and twenty minutes together; however, on the drive over, lynn decided that the first order of business was going to be the text she received from jackie at exactly 11:37pm the night prior.
Can we talk tomorrow?
it was straightforward and to the point, but lynn had a bit of trouble responding to it. she was already working so hard on her relationship with her parents, and she wasn’t entirely sure if she would have the time or energy to mend their broken friendship right now.
(and if she were to be brutally honest, she didn’t know if it was something she even wanted to fix.)
she knew that jackie wanted to talk about harry and what sleeping with him really meant for their friendship. they weren’t really together, and lynn was the one that brought up the idea of labeling it as an open relationship, so was she even allowed to be mad at jackie?
when she asked the woman sitting in front of her, she simply pursed her lips and turned the question around, asking lynn if she thinks she should be mad at jackie.
“i don’t know,” lynn had said. “i don’t know a lot of things. that’s why i’m here, isn’t it?”
“why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, evelyn?”
and that was all it took for her to cave and finally spill what’s been eating at her for the last week.
harry’s radio silence.
lynn really couldn’t blame him for being distant because she was the one who implied that he should be spending time with oliver instead of her; however, she could blame him for the demise of four perfectly good chocolate cupcakes filled with raspberry jam and topped with a mountain of cream cheese frosting.
lynn had spent a good two hours on sunday making a half dozen of the cupcakes as a congratulations for his new job (that she gave him!), but he never showed up for his paperwork that he said he was stopping by to complete. it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal if he would’ve just called or texted, but he didn’t.
she felt a little sad as she broke the congratulations sticker seal on the box to move two of the cupcakes to their own individual boxes to take to nora and whoever else agreed to work the late sunday shift, and she felt even worse when she heard the remaining four hit the bottom of the trash can with a thud.
honestly, she could’ve kept them to sell in the morning, but lynn wasn’t sure if they’d be well liked because of their tooth-rotting sweetness. it most definitely didn’t have anything to do with the gut-twisting feeling she got whenever she thought of someone else enjoying the sweet treats that were only ever made for harry.
lynn sat in the bakery surrounded by empty coffee cups and granola bar wrappers for nearly twelve hours just waiting for him to show up. at the ten hour mark, she contemplated on calling to make sure he was still coming, but then she opened up instagram to see that oliver posted a story of a beautiful bouquet of flowers with a little sliver of what was unmistakably harry’s hand in the top right hand corner.
it was stupid, and she was stupid for letting herself cry on the way home. at least that’s what she told dr. agard right before she helped lynn really understand why every single one of her doctors told her to stop pretending with harry. while he was buying flowers for his boyfriend (or whatever oliver was to him), she was sitting alone, desperately wishing that it was her instead.
she felt so embarrassed when she realized just how deep her feelings for him ran. dr. agard passed her a tissue, but lynn felt like an offer of never being perceived by the older woman again would have done the trick. she walked out of that office with her head hanging low, and didn’t pick it up again until she made it to the driver’s door of her car in the parking garage.
whatever. it’s fine. she’s going to be fine.
✮✮✮
“it was never about him,” lynn’s finger circles the stem of her glass as she stares at her reflection in the dark red wine sitting in front of her. meeting the other’s eyes felt nearly impossible. “it was the fact that you would do that to me, jackie. i felt so betrayed.”
“i know. i know,” the girl offers her a sympathetic look and a squeeze of her hand. “i’m sorry, lynn. i should’ve never done that. i just assumed it was something you two had discussed.”
the corners of her mouth turn downwards as she tries to mask the grimace that’s growing on her face. she did not want to be here. lynn tried to get out of the meeting by sending jackie a text to let her know that she probably wouldn’t make it to dinner due to how bad traffic was, but then the girl responded with a “Drinks at mine?”, and how was lynn supposed to argue with that.
it feels… weird being in jackie’s apartment. lynn thinks there’s no other way to describe it. the two were so close in high school. lynn found herself at the girl’s house nearly every day. it was like an escape from her own family, and there was nothing lynn loved more than watching outdated rom coms in jackie’s too-small bed.
her apartment practically embodied the feeling lynn used to get when she walked through her bedroom door. the first time she stayed over, she found the familiarity so warm and comforting. jackie was always so kind to her. it’s so hard to understand how they ended up here.
the girl’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs tucked up underneath her. her hair’s pulled away from her face, slicked back into a neat bun. there’s a natural blush to her cheeks, probably from the sun’s unforgiving rays, and her nose and under her eyes are dotted with soft freckles. jackie was effortlessly beautiful in all the ways lynn wished she could be. no wonder harry was attracted to her.
“why didn’t it cross your mind to run it by me?”
jackie shrugs around a sip of her jack and coke (the first time lynn saw her drinking one was when she was with harry) (not that it matters), “he’s your boyfriend, lynn. shouldn’t you two talk about that kind of stuff?”
“yeah, well,” lynn clears her throat. her fingers grip the stem just a little bit tighter as she realizes what’s about to fall out of her mouth. “i wouldn’t know. we were never really together.”
“what?” jackie’s brows draw together at her confession. she sits up a little straighter, and angles her body to face lynn just a little bit more. “what do you mean?”
“our moms tried to set us up, and we just went along with it. i don’t know, jackie.”
it’s quiet after her confession, and lynn watches as jackie processes it, her emotions evident on her face as the gears turn in her head.
“so,” the word is so slow falling out of her mouth, you would think that it was made of molasses. “you’re mad at me for sleeping with someone who you weren’t even with? someone who wanted to be with me?”
lynn chokes on her wine at the last part of jackie’s question, staining her shirt with maroon splotches. out of everything she was expecting the other girl to say, that was not one of them. her heart sinks, but she’s not sure if it’s because that is all jackie got out of the conversation, or because she knows if her and harry were speaking, he’d definitely have a little giggle over it.
she knows he would be so polite about it, too. apologetic that she had gotten the wrong impression, but the corners of his mouth would’ve been upturned and his cheeks would be a warm pink. he’d shake his head before widening his eyes and letting out a breath that’d turn into a quiet laugh. he’d look at her from across the room with those soft, green eyes, and…oh, she misses him so much.
lynn uses the back of her hand to wipe away any remnants of wine that were left pooling at the corners of her lips, “i’m upset with you for sleeping with someone that you thought i was with. don’t you get that, jackie? you thought i was with him.”
“but you weren’t,” she frowns. “how can you be so upset with me when he was practically a stranger to you?”
“because you thought i was with him when you did it. you thought that he brought me chocolates when he upset me, and that we spent every weekend at his parents’ dining table. you thought that we spent the night in each other’s beds, and that he kissed me goodnight. you slept with him thinking that he’d come back to me smelling like you. what aren’t you getting about this?”
the younger girl frowns, eyes falling to the space in between them, “i guess i wasn’t really thinking. i’m sorry, lynn.”
“you’ve always been such a wonderful friend to me, jackie. i don’t want to lose that.”
“me, too,” jackie looks at her with big, guilty eyes, and lynn feels her throat start to burn. “i hate that we let a stupid boy in between us, especially one that went after two friends.”
she wants to scream and cry because none of this is harry’s fault. he’s young and stupid and was probably going through a really tough time with his parents and she just…harry didn’t owe her any loyalty, but jackie did, and the way that he was so much more apologetic when he found out that jackie didn’t know makes lynn wonder if their friendship was ever anything real.
“oh my god,” jackie sets her glass on the table. “you like him.”
nothing is confirmed nor denied. instead, lynn looks at her watch before stating that she needs to go and offering to continue this conversation another time. really, she had no intentions of coming back anytime soon.
she’s wanted to cry ever since jackie invited her into the living room. lynn doesn’t think she’s ever felt so hurt by someone in her entire life, and she grew up with the old kathleen as a mother. the older woman was proof that people could change, and perhaps jackie’s just changed for the worse.
still, she hugged her friend goodbye, and shut the door to the apartment with a heavy sigh. she just ached to be home, and something inside of her was starting to realize that home was no longer synonymous with her apartment. it was better described as a feeling. one that she got when she was surrounded by her sisters, or when silas was spending the weekend at her apartment, or in florida, when her and-
“hey blondie," harry’s inside of the elevator when it comes up with a warm smile on his lips. "everything alright?"
“yeah," she forces a smile to match his, hoping the way that she was feeling inside wasn’t showing on her face. god, she was so mad at him, but she doesn’t think she’s ever been happier to see him. "rough day."
"m’sorry, evy,” his lips pull downwards in a frown, and lynn can’t help but wonder if it’s real. does knowing she’s hurting make him hurt, too? because the opposite is true for her. lynn’s chest aches every time he looks over with watery eyes. “were you waiting long for me?"
"i was with jackie," the admission slips from her mouth so easily. like saying it wouldn’t let him know that he was the topic of their conversation. "she wanted to talk."
harry hums as he fumbles with his keys. she’s not really sure how they got here, but they were standing in front of his apartment door. he’s got dark red stained lips that probably match hers and a bag of restaurant leftovers in his hand. she tries to ignore the fact that he probably just came back from dinner with oliver, "how'd it go?"
lynn thinks she’s left with more questions than answers. she appreciates the apology, but if she were to see the girl again, lynn thinks that she could really punch her in the face. maybe it would be because she was hurt. or maybe it would be because she’s filled with ugly, suffocating jealousy every time jackie mentions harry’s name.
that’d be a question for dr. agard.
“if i have to talk about my feelings for another second, i think i’ll explode.”
harry cracks a grin. one of those real, genuine ones that have the dimple popping out near the corner of his mouth. "we can't have that now can we? come on, let's get you some dinner and a sweet treat."
she's standing nearly on top of him as he toes his shoes off once the door’s shut. fuck, she really shouldn’t be here, “that’s okay. you seem busy.”
“nah," he waves her off, locking the front door and leaving her in the foyer as he moves to the kitchen. "never too busy for you. do you want a shower while i cook?"
but you were, lynn wants to say. you were too busy to sign the paperwork for the job i’m giving you. you let me sit there for hours and never texted. never called. and i made you your favorite cupcakes because i know this isn’t a job you’d ever want for yourself. and i just wanted to make sure that you felt welcomed there. that you knew you were wanted.
that i wanted you there.
"your stomach’s practically barking, evy. let me at least feed you.”
“okay,” and when she looks down at her wine stained clothes, “a shower would be great, too.”
lynn sits at the kitchen table with wet hair and a plate of steaming food in front of her. she’s dressed in a pair of her shorts that she found in one of harry’s drawers. they were put next to one of her sweatshirts, too, but she opted for one of his instead. it was larger, and she felt like she was drowning in it when she put it on. it was perfect.
despite how upset she was with him right now, lynn really just wanted to be around him. she’s in his apartment and in his clothes and eating a dinner he made for her, yet he feels so far as he sits on the couch, tapping away on his phone.
there’s no conversation. no small talk. harry occasionally laughs under his breath at something that’s on this screen in front of him, and lynn hates the way that she wishes he was laughing at something she said instead.
“thank you,” she tries. it’s quiet, and she’s not sure if he’s even heard it.
"just leftovers,” his eyes stay glued to his screen. “nothing special.”
“it's special to me," it’s barely a whisper. barely even a breath. there's tears filling her eyes, and she just feels so…much.
you're special to me, she thinks, shoveling a bite of lasagna into her mouth. he had made it once for one of their dinners with his parents, and she wonders if he’s speaking to them again or if he’s made it for someone new. perhaps it was for oliver. maybe he made it for the boy the night that she had picked them up chinese.
the idea makes her not so hungry anymore.
when lynn’s finished, she rinses off her plate and places it in the dishwasher. harry’s still on the couch, and when lynn decides to sit on the other end, she can see him moving even farther away from her in her peripheral vision.
"did i do something, harry?" the words surprise her a bit. normally, lynn was never that forward, but today’s two hours spent with dr. agard made her realize that there’s no point in beating around the bush. all it did was waste time, just like the last twenty years she’s wasted with her mother.
harry stills for a second, eyes looking past his phone before falling onto her. it’s quiet and he’s just staring at her with this look in his eyes that lets her know he’s fighting with himself before he sighs and gives in, "you don't remember what happened at your parents’?"
"of course i do," she says. "i've been racking my brain trying to think of everything i did or said, and i don’t know. i slept a lot that day. we barely saw each other."
“i was hurt when i realized how you felt about me," harry can’t even meet her eyes, and it makes her feel so incredibly guilty. it wasn’t even a month ago when he was pulling her so tight against him like she was the only thing keeping him upright. "i mean, i know everyone has their own opinions when it comes to casual sex, i just... i don't know. i didn't expect it from you."
“what are you talking about?”
"whatever you said about everyone knowing about all of the people i’ve been with," what? "and not that i owe it to you, but i've only-"
"i was high," lynn cuts him off. “i was feeling so stressed and guilty, and i used to get high all the time in college, especially after jaxon. it helped so much, but that day i felt so paranoid and so fucking self conscious after i ate that stupid gummy. i know exactly what conversation you’re talking about. i meant that it was crazy that people thought we were together when they've seen the people you've been with. they're all young and fun and outgoing and so incredibly gorgeous and i'm... im not any of those things. it was a moment of self hatred that i never should've shared with you. i’m sorry, harry.”
his eyes are locked on what she guesses is her knee, and he’s not saying anything. she’s not sure if he’s even listening to her. if he’s even comprehending what she’s trying to say.
"i think so highly of you, you know? and fuck," lynn gasps. when did she start crying? "you're being so incredibly kind to me right now. why didn’t you tell me to fuck right off, harry?”
“lynn,” the use of that name makes her want to cry even harder because harry only seemed to use it when he was upset with her. he reaches for her, but lynn pulls away, standing up to put her shoes back on. “c’mon, stay. talk to me.”
and she wants to. lynn really, really wants to sit on harry’s couch, curled up against his side with trashy reality tv show reruns playing on the tv. he’d pour them each a glass of wine, and as the time passed, he’d make them a snack. she’d probably fall asleep with her mouth open, drool pooling on his tee. he’d wake her up with soft dances of his fingertips against the skin of her arm before offering her a place in his bed or an uber home. of course she’d choose his bed, and lynn would fall back asleep pressed against him.
but she can’t, and she’ll probably never be able to again. if she were being honest with herself, none of it was real to begin with. harry was only ever being kind. plus, he had oliver now, and lynn thinks that any chance at a real friendship has already been ruined by her stupid feelings that keep growing and growing to the point where she feels like they’re suffocating her.
“i really should go,” she says. “i’m sorry.”
and harry doesn’t try to stop her.
4 SEPTEMBER 2018
lynn’s sleeping on her couch when her phone rings for the first time. it was late. the sun had set a long time ago, around the time she had gotten back from harry’s. she showered (again) as soon as she walked inside, and then sat on facetime with silas for what felt like hours. when the boy had to go, she put on modern family for some background noise, and lynn guesses she fell asleep around the fourth episode.
the room has a dim glow supplied by the ‘Still Watching?’ screen when she silences the call, deciding that she’ll call whoever it was back in the morning. honestly, it was probably silas wanting to discuss his date with ren, and that would be easier to stomach when she’s had a breakfast pastry and a soy latte.
her phone rings again, and she silences it again. it’s quiet for a moment, and she rubs her eyes enough to see the time on her phone through the sleepiness that clouded them.
2:47
and underneath it:
harry
missed call
harry
missed call
harry
missed call
lynn frowns, immediately regretting ignoring his calls. he probably really needed something if he was calling her so late, especially with how she left things earlier. before she can call him back, her phone lights up with another incoming call from him.
"harry? are you alright?”
“hi honey," his voice is like syrup when it comes through the speaker, thick and sweet, and lynn guesses that he’s had a drink or two. "i'm fine. i'm outside if you want to let me in.”
"outside of my apartment?"
"i’m sorry it’s late. i would’ve knocked, but i didn't want to scare you," he says. there’s a quiet knock at her door. “hear that? s’me.”
“hold on,” she kicks her blanket off of her. “i’ll be there in a second.”
lynn moves to the kitchen, using dish soap and a paper towel to scrub any remnants of runny mascara off of her cheeks. she ties her hair into a ponytail using her reflection in the refrigerator, and then tosses the crumpled up tissues that were sitting in her pocket from an earlier cry sesh into the trash can before finally moving to the door.
"hey," her voice is scratchy, still a bit of sleep lingering in her throat. "fun night?”
“no,” his eyes are glassy, but not enough to make her think that he’s anywhere near drunk. “how could i have a fun night after the way you left?”
"do you want an apology for killing what was supposed to be a good night with your friends?" she's leaning on the door frame, arms crossed in front of her. "is that why you’re here?"
"what? no, of course not," his face pulls together, but his eyes are soft. "i came here because i owe you an apology. can i come in? please, i miss you, ev.”
lynn purses her lips to stop her growing smile from showing on her face. he was just so cute. how could she say no?
"i’ll let you in if you stop acting like a kicked puppy,” she watches as his hand comes up to his chest, faking offense at her words. he replies with a “am not”, or at least she thinks he does. she can’t really make it out as she’s already moving towards her kitchen to make them each a cup of tea.
she finishes her mug with a splash of cream and his with a spoonful of lavender honey she had picked up at the farmers’s market. when the two spent an afternoon in nora’s coffee shop, he had ordered a lavender latte and an earl gray with lavender syrup, so she knew she had to buy it for him when she passed it sitting on one of the vendor’s tables.
harry takes the mug from her as she sits next to him on one of the couch cushions. he’s already turned off the tv and turned on a lamp for some better lighting. the blanket’s tossed over their legs, and she leans back against the arm of the couch, getting comfortable for what she knew was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.
“why didn't you come?" lynn speaks first, and harry tilts his head to the side. confusion written all over his face at her words. "to the bakery for your onboarding paperwork? i waited all day and you didn't show."
"oh my god,” the boy in front of her seemed to freeze, mug stopping mid-way to his lips. “it totally slipped my mind. why didn't you text me?"
"you were with oliver, and i thought it was intentional." lynn takes a breath, unsure if it’s the tiredness or the glass of wine she had before bed that made her want to be so honest. "i guess i didn't want to know if it was intentional because that would've hurt my feelings more than they already were."
"oh honey," harry murmurs. his thumb brushes over her knee as he cranes his neck to look at her eyes. "i'm sorry. i wish you would've called, but i honestly forgot. i’m such a fucking idiot.”
“it just hurt because i felt like you didn’t want to see me,” she says, lip quivering with her own confession. “which is stupid because i was the one who said we shouldn’t hang out as much.”
“honestly, evy, i didn’t want to see you,” oh, she was so going to cry. “but not because of what you said, or how it made me feel. i was scared that you thought i was dirty, and maybe like…i don’t know. being around me made you feel dirty, too.”
“harry,” her voice is airy, like what he said knocked the wind out of her. “you’ve never made me feel like that.”
“yeah?” he says it like he doesn’t quite believe her, and lynn’s heart aches at the fact that he still invited her into his home even though being around her probably made him violently uncomfortable.
“of course not,” her hand finds his on top of her knee, squeezing once, and he looks at her with one of those soft close-lipped smiles that she adores on his lips.
“i’m not doing that kind of stuff anymore,” his throat clears as his cheeks start to glow pink. “sleeping around or whatever. in case it matters.”
“well, i would hope not,” a faint laugh escapes as she brings her mug to her lips. “you’re seeing oliver, now.”
she tips the drink back, feeling the warm liquid trickle down her throat, and it’s in this moment that lynn realizes harry doesn’t remember the night she walked in on him and one of the many girls from the bar.
she had kicked the girl out before dressing harry in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt that she had found on the floor, and then lynn laid with him in those sheets for what felt like hours. not once did the fact that he had just fucked another girl in between them make her feel dirty. harry was crying so hard, and lynn wasn’t sure if he was even breathing at some points. tending to that was far more important than a sheet change.
eventually, he threw up all over the both of them (even that didn’t gross lynn out). she simply showered and changed his sheets before waiting for him in his bed. looking back, she probably should’ve found the situation at least a little icky. honestly, she barely knew him at that point, but she thinks she’d do it a hundred times over if it meant he wasn’t left to put the pieces of himself back together all on his own.
the idea of reminding him of the night dances around in her head, not for too long though. because now-lynn knew harry, and hearing what happened would just make him feel guilty. even if she was only trying to convey just how crazy the idea of thinking he was dirty was.
she wipes the corner of her mouth with the fabric of her shirt that’s sat on her shoulder. it’s probably a little unflattering, and she bets harry’s going to say something about the box of tissues sitting mere feet from her.
just get a fucking napkin.
she can practically envision the words leaving his lips. instead, he reaches out to wipe her lips with the sleeve of the hoodie he’s wearing. her hoodie, and then, “oliver and i aren’t together. his boyfriend dropped me off, actually.”
“oh, i’m sorry,” lynn apologizes, but harry’s quick to shake his head.
“don’t be,” he looks awfully happy for someone who just lost the boy he’s been yearning for for years. “it’s what i was trying to tell you at your parents’ house. we’re just friends, oliver and i.”
“oh,” she feels so stupid as the word leaves her mouth, but she’s not really sure what else she can say. if he weren’t sitting in front of her, lynn thinks she’d be on her hands and knees thanking whatever god made that happen. she’d promise all of her sunday mornings for the rest of her life if it meant that his relationship with oliver were to stay just that. friends.
“i hate that you were feeling that way,” he says. “i always think you’re the prettiest girl in the room, evelyn. y’practically light up every space you walk into.”
her cheeks burn, the warmth traveling from her neck all the way to the tips of her ears. lynn keeps her eyes focused on their hands that are sat on top of each other in her lap, too embarrassed to look up and meet the other’s eyes.
her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she miserably fails to suppress the grin that’s spreading on her face. harry catches it though, and pinches at her reddening cheeks with a laugh.
“oooh,” harry sings like he’s a middle school aged boy. “someone’s blushing.”
“would you knock it off?” lynn pushes his hand away, laughter overflowing from both of their mouths. it’s the kind that pinches her side and makes her cheeks ache. the kind that she used to envy.
and it’s definitely stupid for her brain to compare this moment to jaxson, but it does anyway. not once did one of their arguments or fights ever end up like this.
not that it mattered, though. because the more sane part of lynn knew that harry was best compared to silas.
the two were so much alike, especially when it came to their friendships and how they treated her. she felt like she mattered to them. like they really did care about her, and lynn knew that feeling wasn’t something that she made up in her head. it was evident in the way harry’s sitting in front of her right now.
when the laughter dies, harry’s looking at her like he knows exactly what’s going on in her head. his free hand reaches for her shoulder while hers are wrapped around the mug in her lap. his fingers squeeze once and then he runs the back of his hand all the way up the side of her throat to her face. his knuckles drag painstakingly slow across her skin, like he’s trying to memorize every curve and every line.
and he’s just… looking. lynn’s not really sure if he’s blinking with how intensely his eyes are boring into hers. it feels so soft and intimate. honestly, she’s never felt anything like it before. maybe it was what love is supposed to feel like, or maybe it was just the lack of sleep.
lynn tilts her face, letting the weight of her head rest against harry’s palm. his thumb brushes against the highest point of her cheek, and she thinks that she’d rather have this for a little bit longer, even if it meant she’d get nothing out of it besides a broken heart.
they’d only ever be friends, and lynn was okay with that. she’d take whatever he’d offer her now, before they got to the yearly dinner stage. they’d sit across from one another to chat and catch up. harry would insist on picking up the bill, and then he’d go home to his partner and kids while lynn spent the night wondering what they could’ve been.
or maybe she’d find someone else, too. a little optimism couldn’t hurt.
“do you want to stay the night?” lynn sits up a little straighter, pretending like whatever just happened between the two didn’t have her melting into a puddle. “i’ve missed you, too, y’know?”
harry nods, a small grin taking over his features, “can i grab a shower?”
“as if i’d ever let you into my bed with your outside clothes on. you know better than that, harry styles.”
harry only laughs, and takes their empty mugs to the sink. he places them in the dishwasher, and lynn watches from the couch as he digs through her drawers looking for a change of clothes before helping himself to her stack of freshly washed towels in the closet.
it feels like she’s betraying herself by letting him get so close. after jaxson, lynn swore she would never let anyone have the chance to get so close to her again, but here harry was, knowing exactly what each drawer in her dresser held and where she kept her bath towels.
there’s a toothbrush labeled ‘HARRY’ that sits in a jar on her bathroom counter. there’s box of sleepy time camomile tea that is only ever touched when he’s in her kitchen. his preferred shampoo sits next to hers on a shelf in her shower, and his side of the bed now has its own phone charger.
perhaps lynn should feel worried, but when she hears the shower start, all she can feel is content. she was going to be okay, even if they were only ever meant to be friends.
✮✮✮
harry wakes up to the sound of lynn humming in her kitchen. it's quiet and soft, and she skips over melodies here and there. like it's something she's doing absentmindedly as she tiptoes around the small space.
her hair's pulled up off of her neck just like it was the first day that they met, and she's wearing the glasses that he hasn't seen since they were in florida. he wonders if the reason behind their disappearance had anything to do with the comment he made comparing her to a soccer mom.
it was such a stupid thing to do. he had said it after one too many mick jagger cosplay jokes influenced his decision to chop off all of his hair, and it’s honestly probably the second biggest regret of his life, only falling behind the way he treated oliver when they were kids.
when lynn had said whatever she did about not being someone harry would ever be into yesterday, he was caught off guard. lynn’s incredibly gorgeous inside and out, and harry doesn’t think he’s ever met someone as kind as she is. he thought his massive crush on her was painfully obvious.
(especially after oliver picked up on it not even thirty minutes into what was supposed to be their first date.)
“you’re awake,” lynn’s looking at him with a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “i made breakfast. it’s just oatmeal. i haven’t been to the grocery store in a minute.”
honestly, harry hates oatmeal, but that doesn’t stop him from sitting with lynn in her breakfast nook and eating every single bite, including the second helping that she so graciously offered him. it wasn’t enjoyable by any means, but he thinks he’d do it ten times over just because it was something she made for him.
the two decide on going to the bakery so harry can fill out the paperwork for his new job. the relief that came with the money he got from his paintings was something he wasn’t really expecting, but it felt incredible to not have to be financially reliant on his parents for once. he’d be forever grateful that even lynn offered him the position, and even more so because she held it for him even though she thought harry was blowing her off.
when they walk in, harry’s greeted with the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon. the same scent that lynn often comes home smelling like on sundays, and completely unrelated, the same scent of wax melts harry ordered off of amazon when he noticed lynn wasn’t coming around anymore.
it was borderline creepy, but he missed her.
there’s a few unfamiliar faces standing behind the counter, tending to the very long line of people patiently waiting to be served. they all smile brightly when they see lynn coming in, pausing what they’re doing to greet her.
the small bakery that harry’s only ever seen when it was closed is nearly packed to the brim, bustling with chaos as people come and go. nearly every single seat is occupied, and he notices that even more people opt to take their pastries to go.
he knew lynn was successful by the way she’s been so generous with him, but he could’ve never imagined it to be to this extent.
harry watches in awe as lynn greets different people sitting at the tables. she knows all of them by their names, and they seem absolutely delighted to see her which makes him guess they’ve been regulars for a while. he follows her path all the way to the front of the bakery and behind the counter, standing to the side while lynn goes up to the older woman behind the register to give her a squeeze.
“hi delores,” he hears lynn say. “i’m just stopping in to help complete harry’s paperwork so charlotte doesn’t have to worry about it.”
lynn gestures over to him, and harry waves awkwardly at the woman, “ah, the cute boy you’ve got pictures of back there.”
his cheeks warm with embarrassment as he catches lynn’s eye roll before she says something about staying out of her office. he’s knows one of the pictures she’s talking about. it was from their trip to the beach, and honestly, harry nearly cried when he saw it. she had pictures of her and silas and her and another woman that he’s never met, but this photo was just him. lynn probably put it up to make their relationship more believable, but seeing it made him feel…he’s not really sure how to describe it.
harry sat in that back room forever trying to wipe the stupid grin off of his mouth. god, it was like he couldn’t stop it, so when lynn started asking about oliver, he lied. they were most definitely not seeing one another, but it was easier than having to explain why a photo made him so giddy.
lynn leads him back to the office, gesturing for him to sit in the office chair while she leaned over and pulled something up on the computer.
“sorry about delores,” she has her eyes fixed on the screen. “her daughter is the manager, and i guess she’s started a little gossip. i can take them down if you’d like.”
his eyes follow her hand as it reaches for a photo that he’s never seen before. it was of him and jane from the night he spent with their friends at her parents house. the little girl was sat on his knees while he roasted a marshmallow for her. she had the kind of happiness on her face that only exists when you’re a child, and the angle of the photo had silas as the number one culprit.
“i don’t mind,” harry says instead of what he really wants to. he thinks saying i think i am going to die when you decide you’re done with me might be a little too heavy for their current environment.
the girl hums the same song from this morning, and harry recognizes the melody this time, to be alone by hozier. he wonders if she’s always been a listener, or if the night he spent in the bakery influenced her music taste. before he can ask, a white screen on the computer gains his attention, and lynn pushes the mouse towards him.
“fill this out and hit submit whenever you’re done,” she says. “if you need help, i’ll be out there, helping on the register or something.”
harry nods and thanks her before turning to fill in all of the blanks. it was easy. the only part he really had to pay attention to was the taxpayer section, triple checking that he didn’t accidentally select the option that said he had six dependents.
the paperwork was finished in a little over ten minutes which had him wanting to repeatedly punch himself in the face. the thought of lynn waiting around for him all day when she was only asking him for ten minutes of his time made him feel even worse about the whole situation.
lynn walks in when he’s inserting his fourth event into his new google calendar app that was downloaded after making a mental promise of never disappointing the girl again. she already has her bag on her shoulder and two to-go cups from their coffee shop in her hand when she asks if he’s ready.
harry offers her his sunglasses when she complains of a lingering headache on the walk back to her car and she accepts, pushing them onto her face. once they’re inside, lynn pulls out a small white box, congratulations written on the top.
“to celebrate your new job,” she says, handing it over to him. it’s one of the cupcakes he loves. with the cream cheese icing and raspberry filling. if he could eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he would.
“evy,” his throat feels scratchy. “i didn’t do anything. you gave me the job.”
she shrugs, putting the car in reverse, “i wouldn’t have offered it if i didn’t think it was something you deserved.”
harry can’t find it in himself to respond. in high school, he was awarded solos in chorus, he got the lead in a few plays, and he even made the winning play for his football team. not once did his parents congratulate him. there were no celebratory dinners, or even a “proud of you”. there was nothing.
and now, the girl he practically worshiped was making him his favorite cupcake to congratulate him for getting a job that he didn’t even work for.
“you’re doing an awful lot of thinking right now, harry. it’s freaking me out,” lynn tries again. “life’s too short to not want to celebrate the small things. eat your cupcake.”
“thank you, evy,” harry says. there’s force behind it. like his words aren’t just being said because they’re supposed to be when someone does something for you. “all of this means so much to me. i feel like i can’t find the words to say what i’m feeling.”
her hand reaches for his, squeezing once. she doesn’t say anything and harry realizes that maybe words aren’t needed at all.
kathleen calls when they’re in her complex’s apartment. jane was sick and needed to be picked up from school, and both her and peter were far out at work.
“i’ve got her,” harry says. “you don’t feel well, and you’ve done so much for me. rest, and i’ll do this.”
lynn hesitates for a minute, but eventually agrees, telling kathy to leave harry’s name with the receptionist. she thanks him with a kiss on his cheek and the keys to her car which jane’s carseat in the back.
maybe all of this meant their relationship was turned out to be more than the fake one they both had agreed to. of course they were friends, but harry had always thought that they were friends out of convenience. the two had to spend a lot of time together, so it’d make sense if they hung out as friends, too.
but, maybe being there at each others’ worst and helping one another out in such big ways meant that they were destined to be friends way after their arrangement ends. a small part of him hoped that would be true, and the larger part of him hoped that they’d end up being even more.
✮✮✮
A/N: waaaaa sorry it took so literal months to post this :( never will i disappear for so long again... anyways! this is almost finished! the rest is written so i'll have it out so soon i swear
#harry styles#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles x oc#harry styles one shot#enemies to friends to lovers#enemies to lovers#fine line#harry's house#dadrry#if you squint#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry#harry styles story#harry styles smut#baker!oc#artist!harry#miscommunication trope#i guess#slow burn#friends to lovers#maybe happy ending#maybe not
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Giik's Ginger Lime Cookie Recipe
I've been experimenting with this recipe for a little while and I think it's at a good spot to post publicly. I think ginger is really cool, but every baked thing that uses ginger is gingerbread, which makes it more about the spices added to it (cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, etc). This recipe focuses a lot more on the ginger itself, and combined with the lime it's a very nice and tropical sort of cookie.
Not sure what to call these. I've been thinking, like, "summer ginger", "moscow mule", or "actually ginger", but for now it's just "ginger lime".
Full recipe below the cut. I'd love to know if anyone makes this and what they think about it.
INGREDIENTS:
1/2 cup unsalted butter (softened)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 egg
1 Tbsp lime juice
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
4 tsp grated ginger root (skin incl.)
1/2 cup crystalized ginger (candied ginger should work too)
1 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
DIRECTIONS:
Before you grate the ginger, be sure to wash it. You're using the skin of it, after all.
In a large bowl, mix butter and sugar until smooth. Add the egg, then the lime juice and grated ginger root.
In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir all that into the wet ingredients until a dough forms.
Chop the crystalized ginger into vaguely chocolate chip-sized pieces, sprinkle them into the dough (making sure they aren't too stuck together) and stir to combine.
Chill in the fridge for a couple hours, until the dough is cold all the way through. If you want to speed things up you can dig a hole in the middle of the dough to increase the surface area. (Or put it in the freezer if you really wanna risk it.)
Preheat oven to 350F (177C). Scoop the dough onto a baking sheet in golfball-sized lumps, a couple inches apart. They'll be kinda goopy.
Bake for 15-18 minutes, until the edges start to turn light golden brown. They'll still be very lightly colored on top.
Let them cool on the sheet for a few minutes, until firm enough to slide a spatula under. Then either move them to a wire rack to finish cooling, or just eat them immediately and burn your mouth a little.
The recipe doesn't make a TON of cookies, but you can easily double all of the ingredients and follow the same directions if you like it that much.
#recipe#recipes#baking#dessert#cookies#ginger#lime#i don't think the ginger tag is appropriate here#cause i don't think people use it to talk about the root#but it's funnier this way
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Same with the algebraliens what if the contestants have lollipop flavors
Flower- Bubblegum
Spongy- Pineapple
Blocky- Strawberry
Woody- Hot Chocolate
Pin- Cherry
Needle- Hot Chocolate
Teardrop- Cotton Candy
Golf Ball- Cinnamon Roll
Coiny- Hot Chocolate
Snowball- Cinnamon Roll
Match- Watermelon
Eraser- Bubblegum
Pen- Cotton Candy
Tennis Ball- Lime
Pencil- Orange
David- Cinnamon Roll
Ice Cube- Cotton Candy
Rocky- Hot Chocolate
Bubble- Cotton Candy
Leafy- Watermelon
Firey- Orange
Donut- Cherry
Dora- Cinnamon Roll
Puffball- Bubblegum
Yellow Face- Lemon
Gelatin- Lime
Fries- Cherry
Bomby- Blackberry
Nickel- Hot Chocolate
Ruby- Strawberry
Book- Watermelon
Evil Leafy- Cherry
Lego Brick- Cherry
Waffle- Cinnamon Roll
Pillow- Cinnamon Roll
Remote- Blackberry
Tree- Watermelon
Black Hole- Blackberry
Bottle- Cinnamon Roll
Pie- Blueberry
Liy- Cotton Candy
TV- Blackberry
Grassy- Watermelon
Basketball- Orange
Robot Flower- Bubblegum
8-Ball- Blackberry
Barf Bag- Hot Chocolate
Naily- Cinnamon Roll
Firey Jr- Orange
Bracelety- Cotton Candy
Foldy- Cotton Candy
Bell- Hot Chocolate
Marker- Grape
Stapy- Strawberry
Cake- Hot Chocolate
Clock- Blue Raspberry
Eggy- Banana
Loser- Pineapple
Lightning- Lemon
Fanny- Blueberry
Balloony- Watermelon
Cloudy- Cinnamon Roll
Roboty- Strawberry
Saw- Hot Chocolate
Taco- Hot Chocolate
Gaty- Cinnamon Roll
Price Tag- Cherry
Winner- Cotton Candy
Profily- Cotton Candy
Purple Face- Grape
9-Ball- Lemon
Anchor- Blackberry
Avocado- Watermelon
Battery- Watermelon
Blender- Strawberry
Boom Mic- Hot Chocolate
Camera- Blackberry
Clapboard- Blackberry
Conch Shell- Orange
Discy- Bubblegum
Income Tax Return Document- Fruit Punch
Kitchen Sink- Cinnamon Roll
Leek- Lime
Nonexisty- Fruit Punch
Onigiri- Cinnamon Roll
PDA- Hot Chocolate
Rubber Spatula- Banana
Salt Lamp- Strawberry
Scissors- Lemon And Lime
Shampoo- Bubblegum
Shopping Cart- Cotton Candy
Snare Drum- Blueberry
Tape- Lime
VHSy- Blackberry
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From The Mighty Marvel Superheroes Cookbook (1977), Hawkeye’s Corned Beef Hash.
Now this recipe isn’t really a recipe, which is true for many of the recipes in this cookbook but rather heat up ingredients from tin directions. So for that reason, and the fact I’m a vegetarian, I decided to do my take on it. Here’s what I did:
Ingredients
300g plant-based mince
1 medium onion diced
4 cloves freshly crushed garlic
1 tsp soy sauce
1½ tsp garlic powder
salt, to taste
2 medium-sized potatoes, cut into small cubes
1 cup corn kernels
¼ cup diced capsicum (red pepper)
Squeeze of lime juice
oil of choice
Instructions
Add cut potatoes to boiling water, boil for 5 minutes.
Remove from water, sauté in oil on medium high for 3-5 minutes, until tender. Set aside
Sauté thinly sliced onion in oil, on medium high heat until translucent (about 2-3 minutes).
Add in crushed garlic, sauté for 30 more seconds.
Add in corn kernels and capsicum saute for 1 minute
Add in mince, separate with spatula.
Add soy sauce and garlic powder.
Continue to stir in pan for 5-8 minutes.
Add in potatoes and lime and toss through mince
Salt to taste and serve immediately!
#marvel#avengers#marvel comics#marvel recipe#recipe#hawkeye#clint barton#hash#marvel's might marvel superhero cookbook#cooking with comics#food
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Lime Container (Poporo)
Quimbaya, 1st–7th century
In Andean South America, there is an indigenous tradition for the ritual use of coca leaves. In Precolumbian times the chief method of using coca was to place a quid of leaves into the mouth and add a small amount of powdered lime, made from calcined seashells. Standard coca-chewing paraphernalia included a small bag for the leaves and a container and a spatula or spoon for the lime. The utensils could be quite elaborate and made of precious materials. Lime containers from Colombia, known as "poporos," were often cast in gold in the form of nude human figures or as flasks incorporating raised nude images on each side. Both figures and flasks exhibit great elegance of conception, manufacture, and finish. The shouldered bottle here, adorned on either side with a female figure, still contains powdered lime.
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Massim Spatula Terminal Papua New Guinea
#Papua New Guinea#papua new guinea art#tribal art#massim#massim art#lime spatula#lime stick#ebony#sculpture#art sculpture
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Robby's Baking Therapy #4 Lime Pudding Cake
Hello everyone. Today we are making another lime recipe. This recipe comes from one of my favorite cookbooks that my mom and I own. It is the 1970s version of the Betty Crocker cookbook series.
The first thing you want to do is gather your ingredients. It does help to have all of the ingredients in front of you because you can just dump the ingredients in where they need to go according to the recipe.
For this recipe you are going to need:
2 eggs, separated
1 teaspoon grated lime peel
¼ cup lime juice
⅔ cup milk
1 cup sugar
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt
After you get your ingredients ready, you are going to heat your oven to 350℉.
In two different bowls, you are going to separate your eggs. You are going to whisk your egg whites until stiff peaks form.
In the other bowl, you are going to beat the egg yolks. Then beat in your lime peel, lime juice, and milk. Beat the remaining ingredients into this mixture and mix until it is smooth.
Gently fold in the egg whites. In order to fold, you are going to grab a spatula and start at the top of your mixture and go under, turn the bowl and continue until the egg whites are just combined. You do not want to mix normally because you will lose all of the air that you created when you formed stiff peaks. You want it to be light and fluffy.
Pour the mixture into an ungreased 1-quart casserole dish. That is 9x9 inches. Place it on a cookie sheet and pour very hot water on the cookie sheet. To give it the pudding-like consistency.
Bake this dish until golden brown. This will take about 45 to 50 minutes. Remove the casserole dish from the water. Serve it either warm or cold. And if desired serve it with whipped cream on top.
I hope that you like this recipe. Feel free to check out the description down below. See you in the next recipe. Thank you.
Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Robby's Cookbook Collection
Here is a printable version of this recipe: on the blog
Please help me get a phone: by supporting me on Kofi / Patreon
#baking#baking therapy#recipe sharing#sweets#dessert#baking adventures#baking recipes#baking blog#recipes#baker#baked goods#bakeblr#lime cake#lime#cake#pudding cake#pudding
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@arachnaemboss asked: 'twix dark lips slides out a bright lime tongue —- which eagerly laps and licks at a silver spoon covered in caramel!
Sundays are Caramel Days, this much has been in writing since Carmilla was alive. It was a ritual of hers to stroll into the kitchen in the evening and start kicking up the fire and putting at least three different sauce pans on the stove filled with sugar and condensed milk - two tweaked with different touches of flavor while the main one was the original recipe. She got cooking and into the zone, making little candy bars with cinnamon tooth picks and vanilla-flavored sticks, hair done back and in motion.
When she was in the kitchen, the sturdy and pinched expression she wore might have made one think she did not want anyone toddling about while she was busy, but Carmilla actually very much enjoyed the company. Having Zestial come and be her taste tester was always something she enjoyed.
"If anything, I admire her courage. It's not an easy choice to set up a farm in the Fields of Ruination. I think it's a fool's errand for anyone to try, we've personally seen how successful those ventures have become, but she showed me that she hasssss.." The words died on Carmilla's tongue in a dry hiss, a stillness locking her jaw in place. The spatula turning lops of toasting gold paused, it felt everything in the kitchen did, but it didn't - it was only Carmilla and the eyes she had magnetized to their corners, watching the green dance and flit around the fine filigreed silver. The bright light peeking through the curls in the metalwork.
She would deny everything if some wayward spirit suggested they had witnessed the way her pupils dilated, keenly following the deep grooved laps collect the pools of oozing caramel. It was just the right consistency, sticky, but liquid gold - able to licked, able to be drank. Thick with viscosity stretching webs between the brilliant shine and the stinging lime glow. She would refuse that her head bent down, as if to peer more studiously, a brow hitched high.
It was one pop of the lips that made her wince and close her eyes, lips stretching and throat clearing. Her cheeks had a rich glow of blush that couldn't be ignored however, she knew that, and she tried to use the benefit of her braid tossing over her shoulder to lay and bundle with it to hide that fact. Hide her side view from Zestial.
Damn.
Damn, what was she saying?
#(( HERE. TAKE IT. TAKE THIS GOOFY THING KDSFGKSDKFG ))#arachnaemboss#[ carmilla; ic. ]#carmilla&zestial.#[ mature. ]#[ asks. ]#mature //
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DIY: Summer Citrus Sugar Scrub
Rejuvenate and revive your skin with this easy citrus sugar scrub recipe. With only 3 ingredients you probably already have on hand, you’ll be ready to whip up this gentle exfoliating body scrub in no time!
Sugar Scrub, or body polish is a luxurious way to refresh your skin. It is so gentle that it can even be used on sensitive skin.
Exfoliating body scrub makes a great shower favor, quick gift, treat for yourself or a hostess gift when you are welcomed to a friend’s beach house. This jar will keep my skin happy all summer long!
Keep a jar of this sugar scrub by your kitchen to soothe your hands after washing dishes. It will rehydrate your skin from the harshness of the hot water and dish soap. Keep a jar of sugar scrub in the shower for a mini spa treatment up to 3 times a week!
Citrus Sugar Scrub Recipe Ingredients
It’s made with just a few ingredients, from your kitchen!
Sugar – 1/2 cup of regular white table sugar is perfect for this diy sugar scrub! It exfoliates your skin, gentling rubbing away dead skin cells leaving your skin feeling smooth and radiant.
Oil – I use 1/4 cup Vitamin E Oil in this recipe which is so good for your skin. Its anti inflammatory properties soothes and calms, while hydrating dry skin and working to heal any blemishes.
Citrus – Is so good for your body inside and out! Naturally full of vitamin C it leaves your skin with a beautiful glow! It also can help to lighten sun spots or other blemishes on your skin. I love the texture and beautiful color the citrus adds along with its amazingly refreshing scent! You can use the zest from one Orange, Grapefruit, or Lemon, or 2 Limes, in this recipe.
*** Zest is made from the top layer of a fruit peel. Always try to avoid the white pith. If you don’t have a zester, you can use a vegetable peeler to gently peel the top layer of your fruit. Then cut the strips into finer strips lengthwise, and then again into tiny cubes widthwise.
Supplies
Large Glass Mixing Bowl
Handheld Citrus Zester (variations under Tips and Tricks)
Spatula
Measuring Cups
Sealable Glass Jars (I like to use mason jars or repurpose clean jars I already own)
Ice Cream Scoop
How to Make Exfoliating Body Scrub
This scrub is so easy to make. It only contains natural ingredients and no artificial food colorings.
Combine sugar and oil.
2. Add zest.
3. Scoop into sealable glass jars.
4. Label and date.
5. Store for up to 3 months in an airtight container.
Variations
This sugar scrub recipe is so easy to customize to fit your needs!
Citrus Variations – In this recipe I use orange, but any other citrus would work well! In the past, I have used grapefruit, orange, lime, and lemon. They all have worked wonderfully! If using lime I chose to use the zest from 2 limes since they are smaller sized fruit.
Oil Variations – Vitamin E Oil, Coconut Oil, Olive Oil, Almond Oil, Carrot Oil, Argan Oil, Jojoba Oil, and Grapeseed Oil.
Sugar Variations – Any white sugar should work well in this recipe. Sugar is used for a gentle exfoliation so keep that in mind when choosing the coarseness of the sugar.
For a winter sugar scrub try adding a dash of ground cloves or ground cinnamon.
Add a few drops of essential oils. My favorite combinations include other citrus oils to complement and enhance, floral scents such as moroccan rose or lavender, and woody scents such cedar or rosemary.
Pro Tip: If using coconut oil, it will help to slightly warm the oil on the stovetop or even the microwave before adding it to the mixture. I love coconut oil and lime combination!
How to Store Sugar Scrub
This Sugar Scrub recipe can be stored for up to 3 months in a properly sealed jar / airtight container.
PRO TIP: Upcycle jars you already own!
#DIY Citrus Sugar Scrub#Summer Body Scrub Recipe#Homemade Exfoliating Scrub#Natural Skin Rejuvenation#Sensitive Skin Body Polish#Citrus Zest Beauty Products#Vitamin E Oil Benefits#Kitchen Ingredients Skin Care#Gift Ideas: DIY Sugar Scrub#How to Make Sugar Scrub
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A Snippet From Thebe Moon's Draco/OC Fic
So I'm still working on my long, multi-chapter fic titled "Augurey Park." In this story, an American witch comes to Britain to work in the U.S. Magical Diplomatic Office at the Ministry of Magic, and ends up in a secret affair with our favorite weird blond wizard. Here, Chloe is going to St. Mungo's to help a busload of American tourists who went to the Cotswolds and were turned into frogs. Draco Malfoy follows her there.
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St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was a very strange place. I’d never Apparated there before, so I had to find a public Floo in Diagon Alley to get there.
Unlike wizarding hospitals in the States, which were modeled closely after No-Maj hospitals and even used some modern medical equipment, St. Mungo’s looked like something out of a Civil War movie, except it was very clean and there was no blood. All the patients in the waiting room seemed to be suffering from some sort of hex, from the small child with the head of a mongoose to an old woman who insisted that the large spatula she held was her husband. (It was unclear at this point whether she or the spatula was the real patient.)
A witch in lime-green robes was walking up and down the rows of waiting patients in rickety wooden chairs, asking questions and making notes on her clipboard. Her robes had an emblem embroidered on her chest: a wand and bone, crossed.
I presented myself at the reception desk, where a skinny wizard with an eye patch looked me up and down.
“What’s wrong with you?” he barked.
“Nothing you can help with,” I said.
“It’s alright, don’t be shy, Miss.” He raised his quill. “Poisoning? Memory loss? Scrofungulus?”
“What? No!” I cried, instinctively touching my neck as if little tentacles would sprout just from the spoken word.
“I’m here on government business.” I showed him my freshly made U.S. Wizarding Diplomacy Card.
The wizard sighed. “Who yer tryin’ to see, Miss … erm … Baffles?”
“A group of American tourists were brought in earlier this week. Can —” I began.
I heard the double doors behind me open and the room’s chatter immediately died. Curious, I turned around, expecting to see some poor soul with a missing limb or blood gushing from their eyes. What I saw was worse.
Draco.
He strode through the door in sweeping black robes. His sharp eyes spotted me instantly and he headed my way.
“Fuck,” I muttered, turning around again.
“I’m looking for a group of tourists from the Cotswolds,” I repeated to the wizard. “All of them in frog form.”
“I remember.” He looked vexed. “Half of them escaped their box and hopped all over the reception area. I hope you’re taking them back to their ponds.”
“They don’t belong in ponds,” I objected. “They’re Americans!”
“Fine, their American ponds.”
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Gaeng Khiao Waan Gai (Thai Green Curry with Chicken)
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups (355ml) full-fat coconut milk, such as Aroy-D, divided (see notes)
10 fresh or frozen makrut lime leaves, divided
2 tablespoons (30ml) virgin coconut oil
4 ounces (1/2 cup; 115g) homemade or store-bought green curry paste
1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons (35g) palm sugar
3 tablespoons (45ml) fish sauce
1 pound (450g) boneless skinless chicken thighs, cut into 2-inch pieces
Kosher salt
5 Thai eggplants (about 5 1/4 ounces; 150g total), stemmed, quartered, and placed in a small bowl of water (see notes)
1 packed cup (about 1 ounce; 30g) fresh sweet basil leaves (a.k.a. Thai basil)
Cooked jasmine rice, for serving
Directions
In a small bowl, whisk together 1/2 cup (120ml) coconut milk and 1/2 cup (120ml) water; set thinned coconut milk mixture aside. Remove and discard the mid-rib from the makrut lime leaves; set 8 of the leaves aside. Stack remaining 2 makrut lime leaves, fold in half widthwise, then slice into hair-thin strips; set aside separately.
2. In a 3-quart saucepan, combine coconut oil with 1/2 cup (120ml) coconut milk and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Cook, stirring often with a rubber spatula, until thickened slightly, about 1 minute.
3. Add curry paste, stir vigorously to combine, and use a rubber spatula to scrape sides of the saucepan to fully incorporate paste. Raise heat to medium-high and cook, stirring and scraping constantly until paste mixture begins to spit (which indicates that water content has been cooked off, and mixture has begun to fry in coconut oil), about 1 minute. Lower heat back to medium, and continue to cook while gradually adding remaining 1/2 cup (120ml) coconut milk in 2-tablespoon (30ml) increments, until paste darkens slightly and the fat begins to separate from curry paste, 5 to 6 minutes.
4. Add fish sauce and palm sugar, and stir until palm sugar is fully dissolved, about 30 seconds. Lightly season chicken on all sides with salt, add to saucepan with reserved whole makrut lime leaves, and stir to evenly coat with curry paste mixture. Add reserved thinned coconut milk mixture and bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until chicken is cooked through and tender and liquid has thickened slightly, about 10 minutes.
5. Add eggplants, and continue to cook, adjusting heat as needed to maintain a simmer, until eggplants are just cooked through but still have some bite to them, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat, add sweet basil, and stir until wilted and incorporated.
6. Transfer curry to a large serving bowl or divide between individual bowls, and garnish with reserved thinly-sliced makrut lime leaves. Serve with cooked jasmine rice.
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